


Misdial

by veil_nebula



Series: A Series of Teachers-Friends tropes. [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Cards Against Humanity, Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9508724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veil_nebula/pseuds/veil_nebula
Summary: In which Derek had some sort of a wild night and Stiles was the unfortunate witness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So none of the things that happened in the previous oneshot have happened here. Which is apparently the point of a series? I don't know, I'm trying. hope you enjoy, please leave comments!

It was with small eyes that Derek crossed the threshold of the coffee-shop, still groggy with sleep and body shuddering from the cold biting at his cheeks. He sighed contentedly through his scarf when he felt the warm breeze rushing from within. Pulling at his gloves, he shuffled his phone out and felt a small cringe twist his face. His ex girlfriend hadn't replied, yet. He'd gotten drunk – hell, hammered – the previous night and he remembered leaving an embarrassing message on her voice mail, and had left an apology earlier this morning.

He'd really rather she forgot everything and never talked to him again.

Shaking his head, he walked to the counter and ordered his usual triple espresso with a croissant. He always gained a little satisfaction from acting all dark and broody in the mornings, with a scowl on his face, earning a few questioning or slightly scared looks. He thanked the tiny woman behind the counter and left a generous tip. As he was walking over to a small table near the window, he felt himself trip over his feet. He gasped, doing his best to save his small drink, until he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. Balancing himself on his stupid, _stupid!!!!_ feet, he looked up and his eyebrows shot up when he recognized the childish smile.

'Uh. Thanks, Stiles,' he mumbled under his breath. 

'Didn't quite get over last night, huh?' he chuckled.

Derek shook his head with a grin but stopped abruptly. _Wait, what?_

'Last night? How do you –' he trailed off. 

'Well, you were pretty graphic in that message, lemme tell you,' Stiles explained, and Derek couldn't tell anymore if the pink on the man's cheeks was from the winter breeze or something else. 

'I...Oh my god I am so sorry, I just drank a lot because – and I – I never meant to call you. Whatever I said I didn't mean it,' the grown man stammered, scratching the back of his head. He looked at his feet. Stiles' shoulder sagged a little as he whispered 'oh', followed by an awkward shrug.

'It's alright.' He wouldn't meet Derek's eyes. He offered to pay him a coffee, which the man accepted. They sat in silence, and curiosity about what he'd said nagged at Derek's brain relentlessly. He voiced his thoughts.

'You said something about missing me – well, not _me_ – and needing, I quote 'my plump, perfect ass against your cock'.' The look of horror on Derek's face had to make Stiles laugh throatily. 'Again, not me.' _Not that I would've complained._

Derek sighed heavily, ears pinking up, and shook his head. 'Man, I don't even have words.'

'Who was the call meant for anyway?' he inquires, as casually as he could but if he was honest with himself, he probably wasn't very convincing.

'My ex girlfriend. I don't even know why I did that, she was the worst bitch when we were together,' Derek frowned, and Stiles suspected there was more to the story. 

'Drunk you does weird things.'

'Yeah you should see me, one time drunk-me ordered a – well, something stupid on amazon and erased all proof. Got the thing three days later, I was really confused,' he mumbled, as if still scolding himself for it.

'What was it?'

Derek rolled his eyes, desperate.

'A dildo.'

Stiles burst out laughing, earning some disapproving looks from the other customers and a death glare from the man in front of him. He inhaled deeply, regaining his composure and putting his hand in front of his mouth. 'You did not.' 

'Did too.'

'I do have to see you drunk,' he confirmed, taking a sip from his drink. 

'Well I was planning on doing it again on Saturday,' he stated, the underlying question pretty clear.

'Why on earth would you get drunk by yourself? That's sad.'

'I was hoping I wouldn't be?' Derek answered, raising an eyebrow. Stiles grinned and nodded, winking exaggeratedly.

###### 

Derek was at least 90% sure his neighbors would come complaining tomorrow morning. Their laughter was so loud, _so loud._ They were sitting in the middle of Derek's living room, the bottle of whiskey nearby. But right now they were much more busy. 

'Alright, alright, next one. “What's Batman's guilty pleasure?” Mh, Stiles, what is it?'

The young man looked through his cards and picked one, sticking it on his forehead. 'Harry Potter erotica,' he read out loud, head tilted back with a childish grin on his face. 

'You're gross, oh my god. I think, Batman's guilty pleasure is “my collection of high tech sextoys”.'

'You really get drunk that often??' Stiles asked dead serious, leaning his chin on his hand.

'You'd be surprised.'

'I win, though.'

'Yeaaaaaaah, your point, enjoy it.' 

Their words were slurred and to any outsiders it would be obvious they were completely, and utterly drunk. 

'”For my next trick I will pull _blank_ out of _blank_.”' Stiles read.

'Got the perfect one, you can't beat me. I will pull Mom out of rehab.'

'That is so mean, Derek,' Stiles whines, the previous card still displayed on his forehead.

'That's the point.'

'Mine is gross, okay. I will pull, a bigger blacker dick out of...Grandma,' he finished, slapping the card down in front of him. Derek let out a disgusted grunt.

'The images you're putting in my head, you filthy little bastard,' he laughed. 'Who would've thought you could be like that, you, the awkward little thing.'

Stiles snorted. 'I'm destroying your ass with this game, man. You won't be able to walk for a week,' he claimed, not thinking of the implications.

Derek gaped, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and chugging down a large amount. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pointed accusingly at Stiles. 'You are such a dick. I'll get my revenge, don't worry.'

Stiles raised an eyebrow, smirking. 'Oh, really? How do you plan to do that?' He asked, tone challenging. There was a pause.

Derek suddenly leaned forward, dangerously close to the young man's face, invading his personal space. 'You really wanna know?' he asked, voice rough, slowly bringing his lips to Stiles' jaw, exhaling. He felt the man shudder. Since there was no answer, Derek insisted. He nibbled very lightly, licked Stiles' neck tentatively. He brought his hand to Stiles' thigh, squeezing. 'Are you sure?' His voice was just a whisper now. He heard the boy swallow, breath irregular. He might even have heard a whimper.

Derek sat back down with a most definitely offensive smirk. 'So, next card.'

Stiles was staring at him, obviously torn between about ten different emotions as Derek pointedly did not look back. 'You are the cruelest of all the cruel creatures.'

Derek hummed.

'There's a special place in hell for people like you.'

Derek hummed again, earning the loudest frustrated groan from the other man. He looked up only when he received a pillow on his face. 'Aw, baby, don't be like that,' Derek grinned devilishly, 'I'll take care of that later,' he assured, nodding towards Stiles' very visible _problem_. 'Let's finish the game, then _I'll_ destroy your ass.'

Stiles snorted.

'Subtle.'


End file.
